Between the Sinners and the Saints
by kingdombythesea112
Summary: Commander Ashley Hicks (O/C), reassigned from her bright, sunny, warm home in L.A to the much colder and unfamiliar territories of Chicago. Though the name and faces are different, the work remains the same. Will she be able to handle the new problems that Chicago throws at her, or will she freeze up and turn tail? (Includes S.W.A.T Crossover)


It had to be one of the longest drives she's ever had to take for a reassignment. Nearly two days of driving and barely half the day to unload and rest. She had moved all of her things up to her new apartment yesterday early afternoon and still hadn't had any time to unpack most of her boxes beside the equipment and gear she was bringing to the firehouse. She had spent most of her night checking and double-checking her equipment to make sure they were all present and in order for the meet-n-greet the following day.

The rest of the anxious night was spent looking for a good rated coffee shop in this city that she could stop by for her fix of coffee or smoothies. She had a sweet tooth that couldn't be satisfied by any old shop. She realized, with some disappointment, that with this new environment, she would have to find one that would make her drinks just the way that they made it back at home.

On her way over to the station, she ran out and gave this one shop a shot to get her orders right. Her coffee was too bland and their smoothie was too crunchy with all the uncrushed ice still left floating around. But to their credit, she needed the feeling of her jaws working to crush the ice. It was relaxing on her drive to her new station.

As she drove onto the lot, she quickly checked her lightly applied make-up on her face and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She stroked her honey-blonde plaited hair with her hands, letting it fall in front of her left shoulder. She let out one last huff, fixed her shirt that was on loan from her fiance, before setting out to the station.

Ashley walked up to the firehouse, her faded black duffle bag with the LAPD emblem on it had three different straps, two to carry over her shoulders and one handle to heft and haul with. Between both the straps and her, laden with all her gear including her helmet, her fire-retardant pants, and jacket. The radio with her extension was clipped near the bottom of and extra uniform clothes all tucked inside hanging off her right shoulder strap. With her thumb, she nervously twirled her engagement ring around her left ring finger. The feeling of the small metal band around her finger comforted her to a degree as she remembered who she was doing this for. Her boyfriend had proposed on the weekend right before she made the decision to move away from Los Angeles to Chicago. She was trying to keep old comforts close, wearing his shirt, the small trinket he had bought for her that hung off her key-chain that bounced off the duffle bag.

Before she left, she didn't have the heart to ask him to transfer with her when he was thriving in his career as a SWAT officer and teaching in the academy. She knew how much S.W.A.T meant to him as much as the Fire and Rescue was to her. She wouldn't make him choose between the both of them and she knew he wouldn't do that to her either. It was a bittersweet parting but they had promised to keep in touch with each other as often as they could and visit if at all possible. She had her doubts that he would be able to see her as often-if at all- with how stressful his job was, especially in LA.

She shook her head with a determined huff as she mentally locked herself down and tried to focus. She instead looked around the fire station as she walked into the house, she saw a group of men who she assumed would be her future squadmates. She saw a short stocky man, cleanly shaven, wearing a baseball cap, his beady eyes darting between the table, his cards, his opponent and occasionally, his slightly taller colleague with the adult version coloring next to him. The man across from him was a broadly built Hispanic man with the typical fireman's mustache and a slightly grizzled look around his jawline. And then in between them both, was the man that hunched over his coloring book with a very concentrated face. His tongue pinched between his lips as it hung out in the air to dry. His choice of color at the moment was a wonderful shade of rosy pink filling in the spaces with the speed of an EKG on a patient in cardiac arrest.

They were all sitting around a small wooden table off to the side of the truck bay, all in mismatched chairs of different colors and models. Most likely obtained through the universal beg-borrowed-and-stolen type of acquisitions. The only seat that stood out from the table was an empty Lazy-boy recliner. The leather on the armrests was cracked, peeling at most parts and well worn at the seat. The chair looked as if it had years of wear on it from the same person. She stepped past them and peeked into the room adjacent to the truck bay. Cruz's eyes flicked briefly between her and the cards in mild annoyance. She observed among the spacious setting of the lounge area, that there was a couch with a very noticeable imprint to it's cushion. What was more noticeable were threads, seam lines splitting away from the linings of the cushions and the arm rest. To her amusement, she recalls a similar set up from her previously assigned station. She grins a little and hopes that her intro to this station was as smooth as the first. She walked over to the table to talk to the men.

"Hey guys, do y-" She stopped short when she realized they weren't paying any attention to her a bit. She threw her hip out a little bit and shook her head, things were the same wherever she went, boys will be boys. She circled around the table and decided to pick on the one with the coloring book and colored pencil. She plucked the pencil out of the hyper-focused man's hand and watched as his focus shattered violently and was returned to reality as he searched with his eyes desperately for where the pencil could have traveled to. She brought it closer to her face so that the larger man would track it until she had his attention.

His visual distress brought about the attention of the other two, to their annoyance. When the larger man reached for the pencil, she pulled back at the last moment, keeping it well out of reach and tried again, "Hey there big guy, I'm new, and I'm looking for Chief Boden and Paramedics Brett and Dawson. You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?" She flashes her million-dollar smile at him hoping maybe some feminine charm would work against him, and more for her.

"They should be waiting for you in the Chief's office," the Hispanic man tells her. "Give the big guy his pencil, and I'll take you to the Chief." He would wait until she had completed this request. She turned over to the speaker and slowly brought the pencil back into reach. It was quickly retrieved by the large man who hugged it close to his chest as if making a wordless promise to cherish it forever for as long as it lasts. The two gentlemen folded their cards on the table and one of them stood to greet her with a calloused hand and introduced himself with a snarky smile, "The name is Cruz, Joe Cruz." His compatriot across the table widened his eyes and shook side to side in his seat slightly as he mimicked quietly "I'm Bond, James, Bond!" holding out his right hand to her as he stands up from his seat. Cruz snatches up the empty card box and flicks it across the table at his opponent. Tony flinches slightly as it bounces off his forehead and back onto the table where the cards were.

"See that clown there?" He pointed at the man who was recovering from the sudden assault of the small box for the cards. The stout medium built man wore a navy blue baseball cap, it's bill facing backward and a large white stitched-on number 3 that stuck out like a sore thumb above his forehead. His rather distinct bulbous nose left little to the imagination in terms of first impressions. "That's Tony. Don't trust anything he says. Why, you might ask? Well I'm glad you did," he turns his head and looks at Tony critically as he catches him trying to take a peek at his set of cards. "Because he's a dirty cheat and a liar!"

Cruz swats at one of Tony's worn and fire aged hands. Tony throws his hands up defensively after having been caught in the act. The larger man next to him with the coloring pencil begins to point and laugh at Tony's given first impression. That was before Cruz would turn his finger towards the one that was laughing, "And that big softy of a lunatic, is Capp, _definitely_ don't listen to what him. Ever."

Cruz said it so unashamedly and sternly but there was still that hint of humor lying underneath it all. He taps Capp's shoulder playfully with a grin before turning to his current guest. "And you would be?"

"Ashley Hicks," she extended a hand out to him and he takes it gladly and gives her hand a few firm shakes. Just as expected of firefighters, their constant dry and callused hands always greeted hers on the shake.

"Right this way then Miss Hicks, follow me." Joe replies, nodding with his head to encourage Ashley to follow him. As he navigates them through the halls, passing by a few other of his coworkers, he asks, "So Miss Hicks, I hear you're going to be the new AC?" Ashley nodded politely as she tries to ignore the small looks from the other members of the firehouse, it was like moving into a new school. Everyone could smell the new off of her, like blood in the water. Or boot polish among the mud. It wasn't hard to imagine all the crew members that walked past or whoever that caught a glimpse of her as she passed by to start the usual scuttlebutt. She couldn't wait to get the meeting over with so she could make her own first impression with the others.

"Yup, straight from L.A!"

"Damn! L.A? You must have had a nice long flight!"

"Drive, actually! Had lots of detours, but took some pictures along the way if you want to s-!"

Astounded, Cruz stopped abruptly and held a hand up against her arm. He slowly turned to face her, his eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets, "You mean to tell me, you drove all that way, from L.A, all the way to Chicago, and still made it in time for shift?"

Ashley cocked her head to the right slightly, curiously wondering if what she had accomplished would be considered a superhuman feat of some sort. She contorted her face to make her suggestion seem more plausible as she took the nail of her thumb and attended a small itch just at the right side hairline. "I mean...maybe? It really wasn't that bad, the time difference is new and all but otherwise I feel just fi-!"

"You're crazy! Y'know that! I would've waited a week before I came in after that!" Cruz stared at her for a moment more before shaking his head and waving his hand to keep them moving. He glanced towards the Chief's office as they quickly approached it. He offered a handshake and flashed a smile towards her before sending her off to meet the Chief. Connie glared at Cruz over her half-glasses to encourage him to finish up his talk. Cruz picked up on the message nearly immediately as he raised his chin skyward, he sucked in a quick gulp of air and smiled but with a strained look about it.

Connie was an interesting character, the firehouse work-wife of the Chief, and occasionally the babysitter of the crew. A short and stocky African-American woman with gold blonde hair and a red highlight running across front. Her face was covered with distinctly aged beauty marks and her well practiced hands typed away at the keyboard at her station. From her kingdom, she reigned as both Queen and humble servant of the house. The apex of efficiency in action and grace in play, her word was law second to only the Chief. With every step, the house trembled at her might, and at every call snapped a hasty response for fear of her wrath. She was the power to the house and well deserving of everyone's respect. This was the case with no exception. Cruz knew this best.

"Alright, well, here's the Chief's office! Good luck and welcome to the family!" Cruz shook her hand and left promptly, peeling away to disappear behind some hallway behind her. She was about to knock on the door but it was opened to her abruptly, catching her by surprise. Chief Boden's gaze was originally targeted towards Connie's desk.

"Conn-Oh!" he seemed just as surprised as she was as he leaned back slightly, his eyes squinting for a moment before he smiled all the more welcomingly. He stepped out of his office, holding his door open and waving a hand holding a folder to invite her in.

"And you must be our newest member, Miss Hicks! Please, come inside and let's talk." he held the smile a moment longer before turning back to Miss Connie, " Could you get Captain Casey and Lieutenant Severide please, Connie?"

"Yes Chief." She responded curtly. She would stand up from her desk and move to the crew's general living quarters, Ashley followed the chief's direction and walked into his office. She stood behind one of the two chairs facing his desk and waited as the Chief circled around his desk. He pulled out his seat a few more inches before placing the file down on his desk. He had to hesitate a moment to make sure he didn't just throw it on his desk as he normally would. He waved a hand at the seats behind his guest.

"Please, take a seat Miss Hicks, the other two will be here shortly."

She nodded politely and pushed a hand up in his direction, "No thank you Chief, I prefer to stand, I've done enough sitting for a lifetime just getting here. If that's alright?"

The Chief nodded a few times in understanding as he watched as the two brotherly-like squad supervisors of the second shift walked into his office and they both greeted their Chief before greeting Ashley.

"Severide, Casey, meet our new Ambulance Commander, Ashley Hicks."

They shook each other's hands with small polite greetings. Severide took a seat in the corner of the office near the window, Casey stood off to the side, leaning on the wall to Ashley's right, his arms folded over his chest.

"Miss Hicks, I'd like you to meet my left and right-hand men. This is Lieutenant Severide, a well established and respected leader here at 51. And then this, the one with the still shining pins around his collar, is our newly promoted Captain Casey. If you hear talk of him being an Alderman, just disregard all of that nonsense. He's a firefighter first, through and through, isn't that right Casey?"

Casey nodded courteously "Yes Chief."

Both men seemed to be just as their leader was, humble and of few words with the exception of the regular formalities. "Don't mind their rough look and soft eyes," Chief Bolden continued, "These two know how to keep the station running. I'm sure they don't need to show you how to do your job but they can at least show you around the station."

"Sure will," Severide agreed.

Ashley turns her head to the both of them and nodded politely, "Thank you, I look forward to the tour!"

"Right," Chief Bolden continued, "before you go, will you be okay to start your shift tomorrow or will you need another day? It'll be fine to -"

"I'm good to go Chief," Ashley interrupted. "Just point me to my Sprint car and I'll be set to go."

Chief Bolden worked his jaw slowly, as if he were chewing on the thought. He nodded then stood up, reach out with his hand across the desk. He offered another smile saying, "Well then Commander, welcome home." Turning to the other two men "One of you two, show her around and let her meet the two paramedics. Dismissed."

Everyone filed out of the Chief's office in an orderly fashion. Casey excused himself from the tour with the amount of paperwork requests that kept being thrown at him by Connie. He left Severide with Hicks and went off to his own Officer's quarters to finish up the paperwork in relative peace.

Severaide gave Hicks the quick tour of the station, from the main lounge room, the general quarters, the combination to their snack locker, the Locker room and the adjoining shower room. Besides that, Severide helped her with introductions with some of the crew that she would be working with on her shift. She had already met Cruz before, Tony and Capp, meeting Otis was like meeting Cruz just with more hair. Meeting Stella, Gabby and Sylvie was a trip. Stella seemed very sisterly to Otis and Cruz, she thought she saw a glint of...something when she was looking at Severide but put it aside until she could get to know them better. Gabby seemed very confident and headstrong, Sylvie seemed confident in her own way but very bubbly. Gung-ho and almost carefree, Sylvie reminded her of a friend that would need to be-not coddled per sae-but would need some extra attention.

Meeting Mouch and Hermann, the two other elderly gentlemen of the station was a bundle of laughs. Mouch at his seat on the couch, it finally made sense as to why the seat was in the condition that it was. There was even a small custom-stitched pillow with his name on it. Hermann, with his crisp, high pitched, heavily nasal accent, seemed to be the voice of wisdom and experience. He seemed like the man that would always pass up a promotion to stay with his crew, through thick and thin, he was a fireman. With a touch of dad-like characteristics.

Meeting them with all smiles and her best foot forward, Ashley could almost tell, she was going to love working here. And she couldn't wait to tell Luca all about them.

Dawson escorted her to the locker room after giving her a full tour of the firehouse and introduced her to all the other members of the shift she hadn't met out in the truck bay. She laid her turnouts and helmet on the bench next to her assigned locker and then began unpacking her duffle bag, stashing her toiletries and extra uniforms on the shelves. Then she started hanging up pictures of her and her family as a few sentimental pictures of her old crew.

She took out the last photo of her and her fiance. She smiled to herself and covered her mouth as she recounted the memories of when and where the photo was taken. The warm sand between her feet as she ran and assaulted Luca by jumping onto his back and wrapping her arms around his neck. The water from the beach that washed over both of them as he ran straight into the frigid ocean. All just before they-

"LAPD?" Gabby asks, pointing to Ashley's duffle bag. She peers closer at the emblem, "SWAT too?" Gabby sizes Ashley up, glancing between the emblem and the person before her. Ashley quickly fixed her composure, stowing away the picture and brushing her hair behind her ear. She glances down to her bag with the LAPD emblem and asks Gabby, "Um, sorry? Me or my bag?"

Gabby says with a shrug as she leans down to readjust the laces of her boots, "Both. Why not?"

Ashley nods with a better understanding of the question, she reaches into her bag to grab her stash of snacks and stow them away in the top compartment of her locker. "No, not anymore anyway, my fiance Dom does though. He's third-generation in his family." She smiles and scoffs lightly before explaining to the curious Gabby that she threw a questioning glance her way. "My dad is actually his boss so, it kinda worked out pretty well! For him, anyway." Gabby noticed the smile fall a little and followed up accordingly.

"So, did he transfer to Chicago too or...?" Gabby asked as she stood back up, fixed her belt and her shirt and leaned against one of the lockers. She crossed her arms and fixed her gaze on the LAPD bag.

"Oh, no. Dom didn't transfer, he couldn't leave his job behind. And honestly, I couldn't ask him to. There wasn't a team here that would take him on and he's a little overqualified to just sit behind a desk all day as a detective," she replies.

The muscles in Gabby's jaw tighten up at that seemingly pompous statement. She shot back rather defensively "Detectives don't just sit around desks. I would know, my brother is one,"

"Oh! Well I know it ain't just a desk job, I just mean, compared to what he does with his team, I'm just saying that's what it'd be like for him," Ashley replies as she folds and stows away the bag at the foot of the locker. Ashley tried to explain a bit more thoroughly. "Dom and Deac, my brother-in-law-Well, I mean, he's more like a brother, an older brother! The older brother I've never had, yeah that works! But anyway that's beside the point-" Ashley waved a hand as she stopped herself from running on a tangent about her semi-complicated family tree. "Anyway, _they_, are part of the most elite police teams in the country. Dom teaches at the SWAT academy and Deac and their team leader teach tactical workshops to other city police forces several times a year. So for me, it's not that it makes anybody any worse. It just makes them that much...better? I guess?" She ended up stating a bit more proudly than she meant to. Gabby takes this as another swipe at both her and her brother's pride as a detective, being seen as nothing more than dumb grunts picking up sticks in the field. Admittedly, none of those words were ever said or even implied but she wouldn't stand to see some fresh blood, no matter the rank, diss her brother's position in the Chicago PD.

"Oh yeah? Well, my brother works in the best unit in Chicago," Gabby fires back as she pushes herself off the locker room, her eyes filled with fire as she sees herself as the first and last line of defense on her family's honor. Her eyes locked onto Ashley as the quickly growing feeling of disdain comes to a boil. If looks could drill through diamonds, Gabby was the one to do it. Ashley wasn't totally oblivious to it as she continued to unpack.

Ashley cocked her head curiously, wondering as to why Gabby was suddenly so aggressive. It wasn't like she was purposefully calling out any other particular department any worse, LAPD SWAT was just...better. At least, that's how she explained it in her mind. She assumed that Gabby was saying that her brother was in a SWAT or SRT unit so she tried to bridge the gap. She closed her locker door and continued, "SWAT in LA is the reason that there are units like that all over the world, my fiance's father was in the original unit that predated the founding of SWAT, and I come from a line of Police officers and I'm proudly going to marry into it. I'm also good friends with the Reagan's in New York, second generation Commissioners, third-generation police, all the sons are police, the daughter, ADA..." She listed all the relations she had contact with. She laced up her boots, brushing off some miniscule specks of dirt. A small grin crept at the edges of her lips as she recounted her days back with the LAPD. Gabby was going to interject once she had come up with something but held her piece when Ashley continued with, "Y'know. I graduated from the police academy, made it to the SWAT academy, where I got injured and had to drop out. That's how I met my fiance, we were in the same class. I know the ins and outs of the police life."

Gabby, still hot with rage but didn't want to start more trouble than it was worth, decided to end it then and there with one last shot. " Yeah? Well maybe you should have just stayed there!" With that, Gabby stormed out the locker room, pushing through one of the other crew members before heading out to the main lounge hoping that the new Ambulance _Commander_ didn't come following after her. Ashley picked up her bag and threw it over her shoulder, she scratched the base of her skull with an uneasy feeling that she just stepped on some rather fragile toes.

There wasn't a soul in the room that didn't feel the difference in the atmosphere as Gabby walked into the common room. Mouch, one of the better-aged members of the crew, could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He tore his eyes away from his crossword puzzles, placing his reading glasses on his chest, leaving them to hang from his neck. Mouch wasn't too spectacular of a man, reaching well into his mid later 50's now, the once ginger hair on his head and handlebar mustache were beginning to gray. If his hair wasn't proof enough, his reading glasses were a strong testament to his age. Letters were becoming more difficult to read on labels at first, then the newspapers, then just altogether.

Hermann, his long-time friend and the team's aged voice of reason, sat at a table adjacent to him. Very few things stopped Mouch from his puzzles and schemes, either a call or a problem. Hermann's salt and peppered head lifted from the table, turning away from the tablet that held most of the logistical and financial data concerning Molly's bar and Molly's North. Her

"Did you see the massive ring that Hicks has on her finger," Otis leans back and calls out to Gabby. "Her fiance must be loaded!" Otis, by all rights, a man-child around his mid 30's who looks as if Shai LeBouf and Orlando Bloom had a love child and gave him a haircut and the typical fireman's mustache, was working on the next episode of his podcast from his laptop. He had recorded the audio from his apartment but needed to add a few more details before it's release.

"I don't think he is," Gabby replies stiffly as she chops up some green and red bell peppers against the cutting board.

"How do you know?" Cruz asked as he jumped into the conversation, he wore a headset that was connected to Otis' laptop that allowed him to listen to the patches of recordings for the new podcast episode. He rolls a finger in the air for Otis to rewind the recording to go over a particular part and writes down his critique. Otis, in watching him write, bites his lower lip nervously as his right leg begins to bounce.

"She might have mentioned that her fiance is a SWAT _officer _back in LA," Gabby says bitterly. "She's from some souped-up police family and her fiancé is some 'third-generation police' and his father _and _grandfather were both _very _involved in the founding of the SWAT unit." Gabby tosses the ends of the bell peppers off to the sidewall where the trash can was. Otis could hear it hit the floor, Cruz watched as the ends flew and missed the trash can. He tapped the table and flicked a finger towards Gabby's direction as concern and interest washed across his face. More out of interest than actual concern but who could tell?

Otis flicked his eyes to the side worriedly, scared that Gabby would be there with a knife-hand ready to chop him up next. He slowly turned his head to see Gabby still well away in the depths of the kitchen, cooking with a bit more...flare...than usual. They've seen this all too well to pass the opportunity up to poke the fire.

"Huh, wonder how does a police officer afford a ring like that?" Cruz asks aloud, he leans back wearing a crap-eating grin from ear to ear into his chair and nods throws a nod towards Otis to cue him in. Otis picks up on it and turns his chair to open up slightly towards Gabby, his confidence boosted by Cruz's ill-advised baiting.

"Who knows," Gabby sighed with frustration, she mutters a string of curses under her breath in Spanish as some oil splashes on her hand and she recoils. "Maybe he's got a shady security company on the side cutting corners and working corners! Maybe he's just another low-life dirty cop. Cause we all know L.A is just _crawling_ with those sort of scum of the…" Gabby continued on her rant while everyone else tried to find some sort of excuse.

Casey, a relatively taller man, with sandy blond hair and blue-green eyes, leaned back in his chair. His full stature of 5'10" wasn't as pronounced in his current position, but even the modest burl of his arms His legs crossed, right over left, his eyes widened briefly, as he listened in to the conversation that turned more into a passive-aggressive rant. Everyone gave Gabby a good few moments of attention before looking towards each other with mixed emotions ranging from utter confusion to complete amusement. Casey gave a quick glance to everyone to try not to rile her up any further with a longer stare towards Otis and Cruz. The two noticed this incriminating glare and reacted as if they were being wrongly accused of a crime they didn't commit. Casey narrowed his eyes and knew that despite their wordless protest, it would only be a matter of time now before the two would find themselves in some sort of trouble he'll have to dig them out of.

To everyone's relief, they were blessed by divine intervention to be saved by the bell. Dispatch called in over the P.A for the house to respond to a gang-related shooting with multiple casualties. Ambulance Commander requested on site with three other trucks en route to the location.

Throwing on a more professional demeanor, Captain Casey ordered his crew with all the authority he could muster in his voice, "Alright, that's us crew! Mount up!" He swiveled his head in search for the Ambulance Commander as he made his way to the Truck Bay. Ashley was seen already in uniform and throwing what looked to be a go-bag into the passenger seat of her Sprinter. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments with a respectful nod to each other.

"Looking forward to see you work Commander!"

"Just focus on your own, Captain!"

The doors slammed closed, the sirens wailed, and House 51 and all her crew, were en route to the scene.


End file.
